Silent Witness
by Lifeguard
Summary: She is the only witness to a brutal crime, but she can't tell the team what she saw. Can one CSI help her? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Silent Witness **

**Author: **Lifeguard

**Rating: **K+ for references to violence

**Spoilers: **Maybe some for Grave Danger

**Disclaimer: **In a perfect world I would own Nick (did I say that out loud?). I own nothing. I am a poor student, so please don't sue (because I owe all my money to the university already).

**Summary: **What happens when the only witness to a brutal crime cannot tell her side of the story? Can Nick help her bring justice to the victim?

**Author's Note: **Yet another story which started off as a dream, and then got written down. Tell me if it was worth getting out of my head. Constructive feedback is always welcome. I love reviews so don't hesitate to hit that little button at the bottom of the page! Enjoy!

* * *

She slipped the key in the door as she balanced the bags of warm take out food in her arms.

"Papa?" she called out, as she closed the door behind her. Placing her purse in the front hall closet, she made her way into the kitchen, depositing the food on the table. She then went back to the stairs and climbed them, noticing a light on in the room at the top.

"Papa? Where are you?"

She could hear him talking on the phone, and she assumed that was why he hadn't answered. Poking her head into his room, she gasped. The normally neat and tidy space was strewn with clothes and papers, mostly directed at the suitcase on the bed. The older man turned towards her and hung up the phone. There was no welcoming twinkle to his eye, only a sense of panic written on his face.

"Papa? What's going on?" she said slowly.

"Bella, you shouldn't be here…"

"But I called and said I was coming, I brought dinner. What's going on?"

"Please Bella, leave. It's for your own good."

She raised her eyebrow, her face now reflecting the panic in his, "Please tell me-"

She was cut off by a crash coming from downstairs.

"Hide Bella! Quickly! Into the next room, the closet!" he whispered frantically, pushing her across the hall.

She heard the front door swing open as he pulled the door to the closet shut, handing her the phone, "You must keep quiet Bella, and then call the police."

"Where are you old man?" a voice called out downstairs.

The older man scurried from the room into his own, closing the door and locking it. She heard footsteps on the stairs and then two men in black were banging on her Papa's door.

"We know you're in there old man!"

One of the men kicked at the door, and she heard the wood splinter. It swung open, and through the slits in the closet door she watched the horror unfold.

* * *

Nick Stokes observed the broken window, and then stuck his hand through it. Just as he suspected, he could reach the dead bolt on the door through it. He stood up and went inside the house. The officer standing by the stairs directed him towards the body. Nick was the first on scene, as the team was busy. Grissom was supposed to be on his way with David shortly. The scene had only been called in half an hour ago, the neighbours had heard screams and other noises. It was initially a B and E, but the first officer on scene quickly discovered the body upstairs. There was no need for paramedics. Nick was also hearing now that a 911 call had come from the house about the time of the murder, but there was no one on the line. All the operator could hear was the old man begging for his life in the muffled background. There had only been one whisper of 'help me' before the line had gone dead.

The CSI went upstairs and stuck his head into the room with the body. He cringed slightly at the sight. The old man had been worked over, beaten almost beyond recognition. There was so much blood that Nick could hardly tell what the cause of death had been. He took out his camera and snapped some initial shots. His eyes wandered around the room. There was a suitcase in the middle of the bed with clothes thrown into it. There were also papers littering the bed and desk. Nick wondered if the victim had been trying to leave in a hurry, and if the room had been searched. He snapped some more pictures. Nick wandered over to the desk, flipping through some pieces of paper. There were some smudges of blood on the first few papers, and Nick took a photo of that, then bagged them. It was then he noticed the phone cradle. Where the cordless phone would normally sit was an empty spot. He remembered the 911 call he was told about and observed the phone base. He found the button he was looking for, pressed it and waited. Somewhere behind him, a faint beeping began. Nick knew the find button was useful, he was always loosing his cordless phone around his place. He followed the beeping towards the bedroom door, and out into the hall. Then it stopped. Annoyed, he went back into the room and pressed the button again, then quickly went out into the hall. It was coming from the room across the hall. Nick entered the room, which was painted a faded pink, almost a dark rose colour. There were photos on the wall of a woman at various ages, with family members and the victim. The woman had long dark hair, bright blue eyes and a dusting of freckles across her face. The room seemed to have been the woman's at some point, as the pictures and style of the area would suggest.

Turning his attention back to the beeping, Nick moved towards it. It was coming from the closet. He thought this was an odd place for the phone to be. Moving slowly, he reached out to open the door, and when he did his jaw dropped.

Crouched inside, as far as possible in the corner was the girl from the pictures. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, and her face turned away in fear, eyes squeezed shut. She shook violently and then sobbed out loud. Nick dropped down to one knee,

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," he reached out to touch her arm and she recoiled.

"My name is Nick Stokes, I'm with the crime lab. Don't be afraid, I just want to help you," he cooed.

The young woman opened her eyes and turned her head hesitantly towards the CSI. Tears streaked down her face, her normally bright blue eyes were red and blotchy, faded to almost the colour grey. Nick noticed the phone on the ground beside her.

"Were you the one who called 911?"

She nodded slightly but didn't make any other sound.

"Ok, hold on one second, I'm going to get you some help," Nick turned towards the door, "We need a medic up here please," he called, knowing that the woman was probably in severe shock.

He turned back to face her, "Can you tell me your name?" Silence. "Do you live here?"

again, she didn't answer. "Do you think you'll come out of there for me?" he tried.

Her eyes seemed to grow a little bigger at the suggestion of moving from her spot, and despite the small space she tried to scoot further into the corner.

"Alright, not ready to come out yet. That's alright," Nick said, knowing it would take the paramedics a few minutes to get there. It would probably take a bit more coaxing to get her out anyways. Nick glanced behind him and noticed that the closet had a clear view of the room across the hall where the body lay. From the slits in the closet door, Nick figured that this woman had seen the entire murder take place. He then wondered if it was the sight of the body that was keeping her in her hiding spot. He got up slowly and moved towards the door. She didn't take her eyes off of him. He slid the door over so that the body was no longer in sight, and then went back to kneeling in the closet.

"There, that's a little better," he mused out loud, "Do you know the man in the other room?" Nick asked gently.

Her eyes fell to the ground and her fingers played with the hem of her red skirt. She didn't answer, but a fresh wave of tears began to fall down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry about what happened to him. I'm going to find out who did this and make sure they pay for it though," he told her.

Both of them looked up as the door swung open and two paramedics came in. Nick faced the girl, "These guys want to make sure you're ok, so you're going to have to come out of there," he said, beginning to move out of the way. Before he could get up, her hand touched his arm. It was ice cold and it stopped him. She locked eyes with him and she seemed to be pleading with him to stay.

"I won't go if you don't want me to."

Her grip tightened on his arm, "I'll stay then," he replied, offering his other hand to help her up. She rose slowly, on wobbly legs. She seemed to shake more as she got up. She glanced over Nick's shoulder to the door way, and suddenly she collapsed against his body, shook violently for another second then fainted.

"Whoa!" Nick exclaimed as supported her frame. The paramedics rushed over and lowered her onto the gurney, placing an oxygen mask on her face.

"Poor girl saw everything huh?" one asked Nick.

"Yeah. I want to ride with you guys ok?" he answered.

* * *

Even from a distance Grissom could tell that Nick was worried. He was pacing the hospital hallway, running his hands through his hair, or wringing them together. The night shift supervisor wondered how personally involved his CSI had already gotten with the case. He approached him, and the younger man noticed his arrival. Grissom handed Nick a cup of coffee as a greeting,

"Have you heard anything from the doctors?" he asked.

Nick shook his head, "Not yet. Did you find out who she is?" He knew that Grissom had been working at the crime scene.

"Her name is Anna Riley, we found her purse in the front hall cupboard. She's the victim's granddaughter. His name is Robert Riley."

"Does Anna live there with him?"

"No, her driver's license has her in Henderson. It looks like she brought him dinner, probably just a visit."

Nick nodded, "Any leads on motive or suspects?"

"The papers scattered around the room are business expense reports, and it looked like the victim was trying to find some lost money in them."

"Did he run his own business?"

"A little European restaurant that he managed. We're getting an employee list."

"Excuse me," both men turned to face the woman in the white lab coat, "Are you Mr. Stokes?"

"Yes, and this is Gil Grissom."

"I'm Doctor Sophie Brown," they shook hands.

"How is she doing?"

"Well your Jane Doe-"

"Her name is Anna Riley," Nick interjected.

"Anna arrived here in severe shock, as you know, and she was pretty out of it in the trauma room. We managed to stabilize her, but not before she slipped unconscious again. She hasn't woken up yet, and I think she might stay this way for awhile."

"Do you mean she's in a coma?" Grissom asked.

"No, not a coma. She didn't sustain a head injury or any injuries that would cause one. Unconsciousness like this can happen to people who have experienced a traumatic event and gone into severe shock. It's a coping mechanism that allows them to deal with what has happened. Once they wake up they are able to deal with the situation better, it's like taking a time out of life I guess."

"When will she wake up?" said Nick.

"It could be a matter of hours or it could be days. I've heard of cases where its been a months."

"We would appreciate it if you gave the crime lab immediate notice when she wakes, we need her witness statement. We're also going to need the clothes she was wearing." Grissom told the doctor.

"Of course."

"And did you do a rape kit on her?"

"Yes, it was negative."

Grissom sighed, "Good."  
"Is she able to have visitors?"

Grissom raised an eyebrow at Nick, "I kind of want to stick around a bit, see if she wakes up soon," the younger CSI explained.

"I'll have a nurse take you to her," Dr. Brown replied.

"Thank you doctor," Grissom said, and she left to tend to another patient.

Grissom faced Nick and the Texan's face had guilt written all over it, "I know what you're thinking Griss, that I'm personally involved with this case, and that I should know better, for all we know she is a suspect. But I'm not Griss, I just want to make sure that whoever did this gets put away for it, and we need her statement. Besides, I found her, and she wanted me to stay, so she'll be more likely to talk to me. I'll only stay for a bit, then I'll get right back to the crime scene."

A hint of a smile crept across the supervisor's face, "Good, then I don't need to say anything but goodbye," he said eyeing Nick, and then walking down the hall.

Nick could have sworn that Grissom was psychic at times.

* * *

"Ah, Gil, perfect timing as always," Doc Robbins greeted the night shift supervisor, "Want to guess what the cause of death was?" he pointed towards the old man on the steel table.

Grissom took a good long look at the body, recalling the crime scene in his mind. Cleaned off, the body had massive bruising, other signs of being severely beaten, and several stab wounds. Grissom observed one that was just below and to the left of the stomach, "I would have to say that was the fatal hit, and he bled out from it and a combination of the other factors," he pointed to it.

"Wrong."

Grissom gave a quizzical glance to the coroner, "Wrong?"

"The actual cause of death was a fatal blow to the head with a blunt object of some sort."

"What is a shower curtain rod Alex," Grissom joked, remembering the displaced and broken rod.

"We'll accept that answer," he joked back, "I hear we have a witness."

"An unconscious one. Nick's at the hospital waiting to see if she wakes up."

"I see. Does this witness have a name?"

"Our witness is Robert Riley's granddaughter, Anna."

"Based on the beating Robert took, I would think that Anna is lucky not be to be on the slab beside him. I can only imagine what the killers would have done to her if she had been found."

Grissom nodded in agreement, "Did you find anything else on the body? What do you think he was stabbed with?"

"Stab wounds came from a knife with serrated edges, but bigger than say I kitchen knife. I found a few black fibres around his neck and face, I sent them off to trace. Sorry I can't tell you much else."

"That's alright, you did what you could," his pager interrupted him, "That's the lab, I've got to go."

"See you later then Gil."

* * *

Nick woke slowly, and rolled his head from side to side, trying to work out the cramp in his neck. He stretched and rubbed his face, glancing around the room. The silence of the room combined with the steady beeping of the machines and being tired had lulled him to sleep in the chair next to Anna's bed. He realized then just how uncomfortable sleeping in a chair was. He looked at his watch and his eyes grew wider. He had been asleep for a good two hours. He should probably get back to the crime scene or Grissom would be on his case. His eyes wandered to the bed where Anna still slept. She looked so peaceful lying there. He didn't really want to leave yet, but he remembered what the doctor had said. Slowly he got up, his muscles protesting. As he made his way towards the door he didn't notice her begin to stir. Just before he left he turned back to look at her one more time. It was then he saw her eyes begin to flutter gently. He immediately went back and sat on the chair beside her bed.

"Anna?" he whispered.

She moved her head from side to side and he could see her struggle to open her eyes.

"Anna? Can you hear me?"

Then, slowly, her eyes began to open, and her blue eyes met his.

"Hi," Nick said quietly.

She searched his face with her eyes, but it seemed as though she didn't recognize him.

"Do you remember me?" he asked her.

Her brow furrowed a little and then she spoke, "I…I know you…but I don't know from…from where?"

"I'm Nick Stokes, we met earlier this evening. Do you remember what happened?"

Again she looked confused, "I…I…why am I in the hospital?" she suddenly began to become more aware of her surroundings. Her face went from confused to panic.

"Hey, hey, its ok. You're alright. You passed out a few hours ago. You've been through a lot."

"What have I been through?" her blue eyes were held fear in them.

"You mean you don't remember what happened?" it was Nick's turn to be confused.

She shook her head, "No…no I don't. What happened?"

**To Be Continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Sorry it took so long to post this, but work has been taking up serious amounts of my time. I get home and I don't even want to look at my computer, much less type anything again. But I will make more of an effort to post the next part sooner. **_

_**I want to send a HUGE thank you out to my betas, Ayame2004 and Nicole for all their help! You guys are the best! Now back to the story:**_

Back at the lab the newest CSI worked on the case Grissom had assigned him to.

"'This conversation's been dead on arrival,'" Greg sang out loud as he bounced his head along to the music. He was about to sing the next part when the music suddenly stopped.

"Damn it," he muttered, turning to face the CD player, removing his head phones. It was then that he came face to face with his supervisor.

"Grissom?" he exclaimed, slightly shocked to see the older man holding up the cord for his disconnected head phones.

"Should I even ask what you were listening to this time?"

"Fall Out Boy, and you know, I could have been a rock star too."

"We've all heard that one before Greg. How are you doing on our employee list?" Grissom continued, changing the subject.

The former lab rat pointed to the computer, "I'm cranking out the employee info as we speak. Not only is the list done, but I've got addresses and I am running background checks for any suspicious or illegal activity right now," he finished proudly, handing Grissom a piece of paper. The supervisor scanned it, "Good job Greg."

"Thank you," he nodded to him, "Hey, how's our witness doing?"

"I haven't heard from Nick yet, but our witness is on this list."  
"Really? Which one is she? You never told me her name."

"Anna Riley, the hostess, who also stands to inherit the restaurant and the victim's estate," Grissom said as Greg raised an eyebrow.

"Sounds like motive to me," Greg replied.

"There certainly is motive there, there's no denying she's a suspect. Yet that would mean she has been putting on an excellent act for us so far. We'll have to see what she says when she wakes up."

"But it all comes down to the evidence of course. Innocent until proven guilty."

"The evidence never lies Greg."

* * *

"Nothing?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Stokes, she has no recollection of anything beyond the night before the murder," answered Dr. Brown.

"Do you think the memory loss will be temporary or permanent?"

"I believe it will be repressed for some time, yet anything could trigger it at the right moment."

"How'd she take the news?" Nick had been ushered out of the room as soon as a nurse had noticed Anna was awake.

"She was very distressed, she wanted to know what happened. She insisted you knew, and of course you do."  
"Did you tell her?" he lowered his eyes.

"We only told her that her grandfather had died, not how, not yet."  
"But she wants to know, why not tell her?"

"Because she's still fragile. Give her some time. She's going through enough grief with his death. Apparently they were close."  
"Did she give you any other details about him?" Nick asked, instantly switching into CSI mode.

Dr. Sophie Brown shook her head, "No, sorry. Good luck with your investigation though."

Nick nodded in response as Dr. Brown walked down the hall. He turned his gaze towards the window in the door of Anna's room. She was lying on her side, tears streaming down her cheeks. He decided to give her some time as suggested and began to move towards the exit.

* * *

Across the city, in the fading twilight, a young girl lay on the soft grass beneath a large tree. She held daisies in her hands, which were crossed over her chest. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders and onto her pale skinned neck and bare arms. She was perfectly still, the ideal model for the camera flashing above her. Behind the camera Sara Sidle frowned.

"I'll have the officers put the flood lights in place," Warrick remarked as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Sara barely nodded as she focused the camera on the girl's hands and snapped another shot.

"No doubt about it, she was placed here for us to find," Warrick commented as he came back.

"By someone who cared about her. Her clothes are clean, and the flowers are fresh."

"Any obvious cause of death yet?"

"I haven't been able to move the body, David hasn't made it yet. You find anything on your sweep?" Sara asked.

"Not much at all. Going to need to do another one with a second set of eyes, maybe even call in some cadets. This is a pretty secluded area of the park, but it is big."

"Hey guys," came a voice from behind asDavid appeared with his things.  
"Super Dave, about time buddy," Warrick joked.

"I got held up at Grissom's crime scene and transporting that body."

"Griss is hogging you again huh?"

"You should have seen his crime scene."  
"Really? That bad?"  
"Yours looks relatively easy and clean compared tohis bloody mess."  
"Sometimes the bloody messes can be easier to solve than something like this," Sara chimed in, "We need to establish cause of death, can you move her David?"  
"I'll take a liver temp and then do it," he poised the meat thermometer over her body and Sara looked away as he did his job.

"Hey Sara, you hear about what Cath's working on not to far from here?" Warrick asked.

"I heard something about a gang scuffle."  
"Yeah, the neighbours heard shots and a fight break out, but there were no victims as far as I know, just a B and E."  
"Unless you count this one," David interjected, "She was shot in the side, and I would put time of death about three or so hours ago."

"I'll call Cath and find out when those shots were heard," Warrick pulled out his phone.

"Alright, then help me sweep this area again. I'll call Brass and get her picture spread around too, see if anyone knows her," said Sara.

* * *

Nick stood in the evidence room surrounded by photos of the crime scene on the wall. On the brightly lit table lay the victim's clothes and Anna's clothes as well as other artefacts from the house. His eyes wandered over Robert Riley's shirt and then to Anna's. The senior Riley's blue shirt was soaked in blood, while the other, a white top was spotless. Nick took out his flashlight and began to go over her light red skirt for any darker patches of crimson. It took him a few minutes, but the back and front yielded no evidence. Nick picked up the folder detailing Robert's cause of death. He then checked the victim's shirt and found the stab wound rip in the shirt, as well as several others consistent with the beating he took.

A knock on the door made Nick's head shoot up. Greg stood there watching him.

"Hey Greggo."  
"Grissom told me you were back and probably needed some help. So you want some?"  
"Sure. What else you been working on?"  
"List of employee's at the victim's restaurant, background checks, and what not. Grissom's with PD rounding them up as we speak. By the way, how's the witness?"

"Awake, but still in shock."  
"She say anything about the murder?"  
Nick sighed, "She doesn't remember a thing about what happened."

"Ouch. Does Grissom know?"

"Yeah, I told him when I got back. Not much we can do for now but listen to the evidence I guess."

"You're starting to sound like him you know," Greg said, raising an eyebrow at Nick.

The Texan gave him a look that told the younger CSI not to push his luck, "You want to talk over this whole scenario with me Greggo?"

"Fine, you start."

"Ok, so the suspect breaks the front window and gets the door open. They go upstairs looking for Riley, who is in his room. They find him, and probably wail on him a bit first," Nick pointed to a close up of Robert's swollen face on the wall.

"So they work him over for whatever reason, and then stab him, but we have no weapon yet," Greg picked up.

"The vic is still alive after being stabbed, possibly conscious, and the suspect had motive and probably wanted him dead. They go into the bathroom, break the shower rod and hit him with it."  
"I think therewas more than one suspect."  
"Why Greg?"  
"I think that one worked over Riley, and the other was ransacking the bedroom looking for whatever it was they wanted. Grissom did a comparison of the bloody footprints you found, and the ones on the carpet didn't match the ones in the bathroom."  
"Alright, two suspects. Has the shower rod been printed?"  
"We got nothing from it. So where does Anna fit in? You got there first Nick, what do you think?"

"I think that Riley knew something was up before she got there. Grissom said the take out food was untouched and both Riley'swere found upstairs. I think Anna went looking for her grandfather, and he made her hide. It's possible that she was an intended target."

"It's also possible she's a suspect."  
"What?" Nick exclaimed.

"Whoa, you mean you don't think she is?"

"I just cleared her clothes for blood evidence, and I think she took this pretty hard to be a suspect. And even if she is, why hang around after the murder?"

Greg held his hands up in front of him, "Sorry to say this, but she hasn't been cleared completely. Did Griss tell you that she stands to inherit the victim's restaurant and estate?"

Nick shook his head and answered in an annoyed tone, "No, I didn't hear that. What else don't I know?"

"She's the hostess at the restaurant, also does the payroll. Seems like it was a family run thing. She lives in Henderson, but that's about all we know. We'll need to talk to her later."  
"I'll talk to her later," Nick replied, almost harshly.

Greg backed away from him, "Hodges' still has the black fibres in trace right now, and Doc Robbins' is going to get us a better idea of the stab wound and knife tract that was used," he said, switching gears.

Nick seemed to calm down a bit, "What about motive? Why kill Riley?"  
Greg reached for an evidence bag, "Here are the papers from the room. Look's like he was missing some money from the restaurant. Gambling debts maybe? Black mail?"

"Why don't you find out Greg, Nick come with me," Grissom startled them both as he popped in the doorway.

"Good luck Greggo," Nick patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

* * *

"What's going on?" Warrick asked, strolling along the street towards Catherine.

She held up a plastic evidence bag with a shell casing in it, "Gang wars, that's what."

"You want to elaborate on that?"

"The neighbours called it in a few hours ago. They heard some fighting, some gun shots, and then the guys scrambled into that house over there," she pointed, "That would be our B and E."

"You know if anyone got hit?"  
"Not yet, and not that I know of. Why?"  
"Sara and I are working a case a few blocks from here at the park. A teenage girl was found dead, cause of death was a gunshot wound to the side. We just finished combing the park and Sara went with the body to see Doc Robbins."

"You get a TOD for your vic?"

"About three or so hours ago. When you say the neighbours called it in a few hours ago, how many is a few?"

"I see what you're getting at, you think the two cases might be related. Well, your vic's timeline just happens to match my timeline. Coincidence?"

"A little more than a coincidence, at least I think."

"What did you find in the park?"  
"Nothing. The girl was placed there, that's about it. Granted, there were a few drops of blood heading West, but other than that, nothing. So my job now is to help Brass and PD spread her pic, see if anyone recognizes her."

"Well I'll let you know if I find anything that would suggest a victim or a primary crime scene. Why don't you try the neighbours that reported the gun shots? See if they know your girl."  
"Sounds like a good place to start. Thanks Cath," he saluted her and walked towards the first house.

* * *

The door to Doc Robbin's morgue opened with a bang and Sara Sidle walked in. He looked up from a report he was filling out and greeted her,

"I was just finishing my write up."  
"Great, what can you tell me Doc?"

"Well unless you have a name she's still a Jane Doe. I'd put her age between sixteen and eight-teen, maybe nine-teen tops."  
"Poor girl, dead and nameless so young."

"It's a tragedy. She bled out from the gun shot wound, but I think, if she hadmade itto a hospital, she could have been saved."

"With the area we found her in, I would guess no one cared or they didn't have the money to foot the medical bill," Sara shook her head, disgusted at the options, "What else?"  
"She was cleaned up after death. Her wound was covered with gauze, her face is clean, and those clothes she was in were in good condition."  
"So they didn't care enough to get her help, but someone cleaned her up and placed her for us to find. Anything else? Any trace evidence?"  
"I scraped her nails and sent it to trace. I also sent a few hairs there as well. Despite her clean appearance, her body tells a different story. Her finger and toe nails were dirty, and her hair was too. She had some scars on her arms and legs, and her hands and feet were weather worn for someone her age. She probably spent a lot of time outside and has worked very hard, manual labour maybe. She's not your average high school kid."  
"We'll have to see what kind of information we get from circulating her picture."

"That's about all I can tell you about her."

"Thanks Doc, I've got to go call Warrick."

**To be continued…**

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! **_


	3. Chapter 3

Warrick knocked on the door of the first house. He saw the curtain from the side window open and a small woman peek out at him. He flashed his badge and she came to the door, but only opened it as far as the chain would go.

"Are you a cop?" she asked, motioning towards the officer leaning against his cruiser near the end of the driveway.

"No Ma'am, I'm a crime scene investigator. I was wondering if you knew this girl," he showed her the picture of the Jane Doe from the morgue.

"I don't know her name, but she hangs around here. Why are you showing me this? She doesn't look good."

"That's because she's dead."

The woman blessed herself and closed her eyes, "Poor thing."

"Can you tell me anything about the shots you heard earlier? Did you see her outside?"  
"No, I stayed in my room, close to the floor so I wouldn't get hit if there was a stray. And I called the police. I didn't want to look."

"Alright. Thank you," he handed her his card, "but if you think of anything else, please call me."

She nodded and closed the door. Warrick turned towards the next house and tried the same routine at the door. An older Hispanic man was able to tell him a little more.

"I heard people fighting outside," he began in a thick accent, "so I looked, and it was two groups of guys. There were two shoving at each other, yelling."  
"Could you identify these guys?" Warrick questioned.

"I've seen them around. I couldn't tell you names, but I can tell you that they didn't get along at all. This wasn't the first altercation there's been."  
"You've seen them around? Could you tell us where to find them?"  
The man shook his head.

"What about this girl? Do you know her?" Warrick asked.

"That's the street girl who lives around here…her name, I think the kids call her Nine. I couldn't tell you why. Her parents are petty crooks who'll rob you blind if you turn the wrong way. The dad's a real booze hound too, and abusive. Probably why she doesn't stick around with them."  
"Got a last name for Nine or her parents?"

He thought for a moment, "It sounds French, it might be Theodore or something."  
That was about all Warrick got out of him, so he handed him his card and walked away. He was crossing the street to a third house when he noticed a couple of teens walking a few feet away.

"Hey, can I talk to you two?" he called to them.

The teens looked hesitant as he approached. One of the guys nodded his head towards the crime scene, "You a cop?"  
Warrick shook his head, "No man, I just want to find out what happened to this girl," he flashed the picture, "You know her?"

He noticed the flash of recognition in one boy's face, "You know her?"

"That's Nine," he swallowed and Warrick couldn't help but think this boy knew Nine well.

"And what's your name?"

"Mark, and this is George," he tipped his chin towards his friend.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

The boys looked at each other and then at Warrick.

"No, sorry. We just knew her," George answered.

Warrick didn't buy it, "Are you sure? Have you heard anything?"  
"No man," Mark echoed his friend.

"What about any of your other friends, would they know?"  
Mark seemed to think for a second, "I know she talked to my girl Lynette last night, maybe you could ask her."  
Warrick wrote down where he could find Lynette, and handed them his card, "Thanks guys, and if you think of anything call me."  
They nodded, "Is Nine ok?" George finally asked.

"Sorry, we found her dead in the park."  
Mark looked sick.

"Do you guys happen to know what Nine's real name is? I assume Nine is a nick name right?"  
"We all called her Nine cause she was like a cat, nine lives. I think her real name was Nicole or something," George said.

"It was Nina, Nina Theodore," Mark said sombrely.

"Alright, thanks again for the information, I'll be in the neighbourhood for awhile if you can think of anyone else I should talk to," Warrick finished and left the boys. He knew that there was something that Mark and George weren't telling him. He would just have to find out.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What's up Griss?" Nick asked as he walked down the hall with his supervisor.

"A couple of things. Namely, we have most of the staff of the victim's restaurant ready to be questioned, and we have the 911 tape ready to be reviewed. I'll put Greg on the tape, as I figured you would like to be in on the interrogations."

"You figured right. Who's up first?"

"The cook, Brock Adams, age twenty six, and has been working at the restaurant for four years."

They reached the interrogation room and went in. Sitting inside was an average sized man with black hair, green eyes and olive skin. He wore a baggy t-shirt and jeans.

"Mr. Adams, this is Nick Stokes, and I'm Gil Grissom, we're with the crime lab and we'd like to ask you a few questions about your employer," both nodded to Brass who stood in the room.

"Ask away," he replied.

"You've been working with Mr. Riley for four years now as a cook. What was your relationship like with him?" Nick asked.

"He was a good guy, took me in when I was down on my luck. Really, he treated his staff well."  
"Any idea why he'd end up dead then?" Brass remarked.

"How should I know?"  
"Mr. Adams, where were you last night?" Grissom continued.

"I worked till about nine, then we closed up. Riley had already left, so Anna was closing up. It was her, me the other chef, and the waitress."  
"Slow night? Where did you go after that?" Brass questioned.

"A little slow, but Riley was letting us off early anyways. After close up I went to this bar and then home."  
"Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?" Nick chimed in.

"Um, the bar tender, and then my wife."  
"We'll check that out," Brass said, scribbling down details on his notepad.

"Do you know if Mr. Riley had any enemies, anyone with a grudge against him?" Grissom added.

Brock Adams thought for a moment, "I couldn't tell you. He was a nice guy, but he was private too. The person you should be talking to his is granddaughter, Anna."

"See, the problem with that is, that Anna is in the hospital recovering from the severe shock of witnessing Mr. Riley's murder," Nick said dryly, hoping Adams would react.

"See, then why are you talking to me? Why are you all accusing me when you got an eye witness?" he exclaimed.

Grissom raised an eyebrow at Nick, "Well Mr. Adams, she may have witnessed it, but at this time she is not able to give a statement. We were just hoping that you might be able to fill in some blanks for us."  
"I think I've helped enough. Next thing you know you'll be pinning this on me. Check out my alibi, and when it comes back clean you can talk to my lawyer. Are we done?"  
Brass nodded and an officer escorted Brock Adams out of the room.

"A little defensive, wasn't he?" Grissom said to Nick.

"I'll check out his story, but there seems to be the faint odour of guilt in the air, wouldn't you say?" Brass replied.

"Bring in the next one," Nick answered.

Next up was Anastasia Gomez, the waitress. She had long bleached blonde hair, and wore tight jeans, and a barely there tank top. She chomped on her gum. They gave her the usual line of questioning, and she seemed just as surprised to hear that Anna had witnessed the murder.

"Oh my gawd, what a horrible thing to see! The poor girl must be traumatized. She's such a sweet heart, and that grandfather of hers, quiet guy, but real sweet too. So do you guys know what happens now? Like am I out of a job?"

"We're not sure yet, you'd have to talk to Anna. Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against your employer?" Grissom continued.

She shook her head, "Not that I can think of….wait, I did see an expense sheet once. It was on his desk when I went to talk to him, he had some stuff highlighted, and looked real worried."  
"Did Mr. Riley have any money problems with the restaurant? A gambling debt perhaps?" Grissom tried.

"No, Riley didn't gamble, didn't believe in it. But there was this one guy who used to call the restaurant sometimes, he would ask only for Mr. Riley, sounded real suspicious. Mr. Riley would take the call in his office and nobody was allowed to disturb him. Then after that he would always find some way to cut back on expenses, like he was trying to save money or something."  
"Do you think he was being blackmailed?" Nick asked.

"Gosh, how would I know? He's such a private man, but I doubt he would do anything illegal or stuff like that."

Beyond that, Anastasia didn't provide much information. She said she had went out with her friends the previous night, and Brass would have to confirm her alibi too.

The last person Brass could round up was the other cook, Adrian Reich. He was tall, with sandy hair and a large nose.

"Where were you last night?" Brass asked him.

"Out."

"Would you like to elaborate on that Mr. Reich?" Nick urged.

"Out at a casino, the Tangiers."

Brass nodded, "Any reason you can think of why Mr. Riley would end up dead?"  
"Dude, I just worked there."  
"What was your relationship like with Mr. Riley?" Grissom tried.

"Fine. He treated us well enough. Didn't much care for that granddaughter of his though. She was a bit of a bitch."  
Nick bit his tongue, but Grissom saw his face tighten in anger.

"What didn't you like about her?" Brass said.

"She was docking my pay, and was threatening to have me fired."  
"Why?" Nick grumbled.

"Said she knew about my gambling problem," he air quoted the phrase, "Said her Papa wouldn't like that. Said that she'd have my shares taken away and my job."  
"Shares?" Grissom asked.

"We all had shares in the restaurant, we each were guaranteed a little inheritance for being loyal when the old man kicked the bucket. But we all knew Anna was getting most of it, and had power of attorney. Didn't trust her much, but the only person I ever trusted at that place was the old man."

After they finished with Adrian, Grissom and Nick walked back to the lab,

"Well, the shares and money would give anyone working there motive for murder," Nick commented.

"Indeed. We're still missing the other waitress and a bus boy. PD is still tracking them down, but when we find them, we'll let you know."  
"Sounds good. I'm going to go see what Greg got off that 911 tape."

"I'll be in my office."

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it?  
Now there are other suspects, so who killed Riley? **_

_**Can anyone guess what 'story' the B case is loosely based on? **_

_**Reviews are always welcome!  
Again, sorry for the delay, all I can say in my defence is writers block sucks. **_

_**L**_


	4. Chapter 4

The house was a modest bungalow on the outskirts of the neighbourhood. The yard was kept nicely, and the curtains were drawn. Warrick rapped on the door, and waited. Finally, he heard a few locks click off the door, and it cracked open. A teenage girl with tight dark curls stared at him with big brown eyes.

"Yes?" she asked, eyeing his vest which identified him as a CSI.

"Are you Lynette?"

She nodded, "What can I do for you Mr. Brown?"

"Do you know this girl?" he flashed Nine's picture at her.

Lynette glanced at it and then looked away, "Yes," she mumbled.

"Can I come in?" Warrick asked.

The girl glanced inside, and Warrick heard a male's voice, "Lynn, who is that?"

An older man with a white beard appeared at the door, "What do you want?" the man asked the CSI.

"I am investigating the death of this girl," he showed the picture, "and was told that Lynette knew her. Could I come in and speak with her?"  
The man thought for a second, then opened the door and ushered him in. Inside, he led Warrick to a small living room and they sat down.

"So what can you tell me about Nine?" Warrick began.

Lynette glanced at her father, almost to seek approval. Warrick watched the exchange and noted that the girl didn't share any familial features with the man.

"Go ahead," the father said. Lynette nodded and began to speak.

"Nine and I go back. When I was little I lived with her family. My mom couldn't support me so they took me in, and my mom worked and sent them money. Nine, or rather Nina was their favourite, they hated me-"

"They treated her like a slave. I couldn't believe child services hadn't stepped in," the father interjected.

"One day, John," she gestured to the man she called her father, "My dad, well not really my dad, he knew my mom, showed up. He had promised my mom he would find me and take care of me. So he paid Nina's parents and adopted me. I didn't see Nine for a long time, and then when we moved here, they were here. Except she didn't like her parents either. They steal, lie, cheat, do anything to make money. She was honest, nice, wanted to be a student."

"How did she know Mark and George? They told me to talk to you."

Lynette sighed, "Mark didn't know, but Nine had a huge crush on him. Mark and George are students, and cause Nine doesn't go to school, she hangs with them whenever she can, so she can learn and feel smart. She knew them before I did. See, when I came, Mark said he fell for me, and he had Nine introduce us."

"Mark said you saw Nine last night. Want to tell me about it?"  
"Oh, Nine brought me a note Mark asked her to bring me. She dropped it off and left."

"What did the note say?"  
Lynette blushed, "It was just a cute love note he sent me. He's a romantic like that."

Warrick took this all in, then said, "So do you know anything about the fight that happened? Or any reason why Nine might have been involved?"

Lynette shook her head, "I was at home," she turned to her dad, "You were out last night, did you hear anything?"

John studied his hands, "No."

Warrick wondered what he knew, "Sir, do you know where I can find Nine's parents?"  
"Probably scamming some poor tourists on the strip or at the local bar."

The CSI thanked them and was shown out. Once outside he took out his cell phone,

"Sidle," Sara answered.

"Hey Sara, can you run a background check on a guy named John Val Jean?"

"Sure, he a suspect?"

"I don't know, it's just a gut feeling that he might be involved somehow. Just met him, and he reeks of secrets and guilt."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You paged?" Greg asked entering the AV lab.

"I was just about to go over the 911 tapes with Nick and figured you should be in on it," Archie answered.

Nick gestured for Greg to have a seat and Archie hit play on the tape.

"911 emergency, how can I help you?" a female voice rang out.

"Where is it old man!" a voice demanded in the background.

Archie paused the tape, "As you can hear, there is a distinct voice in the background, and if you get me someone to compare it to, it will be an easy ID process. Now, we never hear the guy's accomplice, but we do hear our vic and Anna," he hit play again.

"Please, I'll give you money, but not that!" Robert Riley pleaded.

"Is anyone there? I'm sending over the police," the operator said.

"Please help, please…" the muffled whisper came from Anna.

There was a scream in the background and the line went dead.

"That's the end. I think Anna hung up when they murdered her grandfather," Archie concluded.

"You talked to the restaurant employees Nick, you recognize any voices?" Greg questioned.

"No, not right now. But Greg, will you grab the tapes from the evidence room for me and Archie can do a comparison."

"Sounds good. Where are you off to?" Greg said.

"The hospital. I need to talk to Anna. When you're done, see Grissom. He and Brass are rounding up the last of our suspects. You get anything else off that call Archie?"

He shook his head, "Sorry, nothing more that can help us."

"Thanks anyways. Later guys," Nick left the room.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara and Warrick stood outside the interrogation room, studying the people sitting inside. The man wore grungy jeans and a t-shirt, and the woman wore a tattered sun dress. PD had picked them up panhandling along the outskirts of the strip. Both were dirty and looked hung over. Warrick raised an eyebrow at Sara, "Shall we?" he pushed open the door and held it for her.

"Mr. And Mrs. Theodore I presume?" Sara asked entering the room.

"What's it to you?" grunted the man.

"We picked them up this morning while they were running this latest con act," Brass answered, "Seems they were wanted for several other scams as well, and some petty theft."

"What do you want this time? We'll pay the fine, and we'll be back on the streets by night fall," Mrs. Theodore snorted, pushing her stringy hair out of her greasy face.

"So it's not your first time in here then," Warrick commented.

"Good call Einstein," Mr. Theodore retorted.

"We'll get to your charges later, we'd like to talk about something else now," Warrick continued, reading over their file.

"Make it snappy, I've got stuff to do," Mrs. Theodore answered.

"How about we talk about your daughter then. Nina right, or as the kids called her, Nine. When was the last time you saw her?" Sara started.

"That ungrateful little brat! Comes and goes as she pleases, and couldn't be bothered to help out her old folks. She'd rather hang out with those snobby kids who think they can better themselves with education! Look at the slums we come from, how much better do you think they'll get?" Mrs. Theodore stated.

"We're not talking about the other kids right now Ma'am. We're talking about your daughter. When was the last time you saw her?" Sara demanded.

"Last night. I told her to get home, but she wouldn't. Was doing another favour for that boy. I'll be damned if that girl ever listened to me!" Mr. Theodore spat.

"Which boy?" Warrick asked.

"That little snot student, Marius or Marcus or something…"

"Mark?"  
"Yeah, that bugger."

"And what kind of favour was she doing for him?"  
"Oh, talking to that brat Lynnette! Ungrateful thing! Never appreciated what we did for her!"  
"We took care of her when her own mother couldn't, treated her like gold we did, and she acts like she don't even know us anymore. Walks around with her nose in the air, thinking she lives better than us now," Mrs. Theodore continued.

"Now I'd think about how you say that Mrs. Theodore. Looks like you had several warnings from Child Services when you had Lynette. I think she might have had the right to complain about how you treated her," Brass interjected.

"BS," Mr. Theodore stated.

"Can we please talk about your daughter?" Sara raised her voice.

"Fine! No we haven't seen her since last night. What you got against her? She done something? Cause we aren't bailing her out. She's got to learn her rights from wrongs," Mr. Theodore answered.

"You're daughter is dead!" Sara slammed the picture of Nine on the table, "Do you care now?"

"Sara," Warrick mumbled a warning.

"Did you care enough to check if she went home last night? Did you think to ask where 'that ungrateful brat' was this morning? I didn't think so!" Sara snapped.

"Sara!" Warrick took her by the shoulders and guided her out of the room, which became eerily silent.

Once outside Warrick turned to her, "What was that?"  
"They don't care Warrick! They don't care where Nina was or if she came home! And now she's dead. Maybe if they had asked, or looked for her she wouldn't be. She was a child! She had her whole life before her…and now…no one cares."  
He sighed, "Someone did Sara. You saw how we found her. Someone out there cared enough for her to do that much."

"And someone cared enough to kill her."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"She's been asking for you Mr. Stokes. I've told her to gather her things, she can be discharged at any time now," the nurse told him.

"What about her memory loss?"

"There's nothing more we can do for her now. In time she'll get her memories back, no matter how good or bad they are."

Nick nodded a thank you to the nurse and headed to Anna's room. The door was ajar and he knocked quietly.

"Come in," he heard from inside.

Gently pushing open the door, he entered the room. Anna had changed out of her hospital gown and now wore jeans and a t-shirt. Her face had more colour in it, a nice change from the ghostly white that Nick had witnessed before. Yet her eyes betrayed her. There were faint dark circles under them, and they looked sad. He could tell she had been crying.

"Hi," he greeted her.

"Nick, hi… Did the nurses tell you I asked for you?"  
"Just when I got here. I had to talk to you anyway."  
"About my grandfather, right?" she said sombrely, sitting on the bed.

"Yeah…"

"There's a reason you're here Nick. There's only one reason why a CSI would be involved with my grandfather's death. He didn't die naturally, did he?"

Nick looked away and swallowed, "Don't lie to me. I want the truth," she urged him, her voice shaking just a little.

"He was murdered."  
Nick heard her take a deep breath and try to regain her composure.

"And I was there…" not a question, but a statement she made.

"Yes."  
She was silent again, and Nick watched a small tear roll down her cheek. She brushed it away and faced him, "Do you have any suspects? Do you know who did this?" Anna tried to sound brave, forceful.

"Not yet. We're still trying to figure out what happened, and the person's motive."  
"I want to help."

"You can Anna, we need it."

"What can I do?"

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Sorry for the long waits in between chapters. School has started and I have little time for the story anymore. Plus, I've felt a little unimpaired with it lately. I am going to put it on hiatus for awhile, probably get back to it when I have a bit more time. For now, I am going to work on another story, a songfic for CSI and it might be posted a little sooner. So please bear with me, I apologize for the wait. Thank You again for all your kind reviews.  
PS: Now can anyone guess what "story" the B case is "loosely" based upon? L**_


	5. Chapter 5

"Grissom," Greg called out to his supervisor. The older man stopped and turned to him.

"Yes Greg? Make it quick, I've got to get to an interrogation."

"I did a comparison with Archie of the suspects voices and the 911 tape, there was no match."

Grissom sighed, "Thank you Greg. Do you want to listen in on this one? We've got the bus boy and the second waitress."  
Greg nodded and followed Grissom down the hall.

Serena Topaz sat in the interrogation room, wringing her hands and looking nervous. She was in her mid-twenties, had long brown hair and big brown eyes. They had found her working a second job at a coffee shop. Grissom met Brass outside the room,

"What do we know about her?" he asked.

"Works two jobs, one at Starbucks, the other with Riley. That's about it right now. Hasn't said much else."  
"Well lets find out a little more, shall we?" Grissom entered the room.

"Miss Topaz, thank you for coming in," Grissom began.

"What did I do? Can we make this quick please? I really need to get back to my job. I can't afford to be fired," she pleaded.

"We need to ask you about Robert Riley," Brass stated.

"Is Mr. Riley ok?" she looked concerned.

"Mr. Riley is dead," Brass countered back.

Serena looked like she was going to be sick, "Oh my God."

"He was brutally murdered Serena, and we were wondering if you could tell us anything about him. Like if he had any enemies that you knew of? Anyone trying to blackmail him?" Brass continued.

"No…no…Mr. Riley was a sweet man. He took care of us all real good. I don't know what I would do without him. I think my daughter and I would be out on the streets by now."

"I need you to think Miss Topaz, think about anything you might think was suspicious. Anything at all could help," Grissom tried.

She closed her eyes and rubbed them with her hands, "Um, I don't know. I really don't."

"What was Mr. Riley's relationship like with the rest of the employees?" Grissom asked.

"We all got along well. Like I said, he treated everyone like family."

"What about Anna Riley?" Brass questioned.

Serena smiled, "Anna is a sweet heart. She baby-sits for me a lot when I have to work day shifts. She's like Ariel, my daughter's, older sister."

"Can you think of any altercations between Anna and any employees?" Brass asked.

"No sir, not right now. Look, I really need to go. My boss is going to kill me if I'm gone during rush time. I need the money."

Brass eyed Grissom, and the supervisor nodded, "You're free to go Miss Topaz, but please call us if you remember anything, anything at all alright?"

"Thanks," she replied, and walked out of the room.

The bus boy, Trevor Jameson looked nervous. The red haired boy with the big green eyes and pale skin was sweating and fidgeting in his chair. Grissom guessed he probably wasn't over eighteen and it was probably his first time in an interrogation room.

"You look nervous," Brass began sarcastically, pointing out the obvious.

Trevor gulped, but didn't say anything.

"Makes me think you have something to hide Trevor, do you?" Brass continued.

From behind the two way mirror, Greg suppressed a laugh, knowing full well that the boy was hiding something, and Brass was just getting warmed up.

"Do you know something about Mr. Riley's murder?" Grissom asked quietly.

"No," the boy managed to squeak out.

Brass scoffed, "Come on Trevor, you look guilty as hell, what do you know?" he glared at him.

"Alright! I admit it! I stole some money from the cash box! I took bits here and there, but I needed it, and I was going to pay it back! I promise!" he blurted out, looking like he was ready to cry.

Brass smirked, knowing he had cracked the boy, "Really? How much did you steal?"

"Maybe twenty here and there. The most was fifty, I never took more, figured he'd notice it was gone. But I knew when he took the money to the bank, and I knew how to make it look like nothing was missing. I started paying it back two weeks ago, when he was getting suspicious and acting really funny about the money box."

"Acting funny? Tell me more about this Trevor," Grissom asked.

"About two weeks ago, Riley got really picky about the money. He'd count and re-count all the time, and there were always expense reports. He was never so uptight about it before, in fact, he wouldn't even let Anna touch any of the money any more. He took over payroll from her."

"Can you think of any reason why he might have done that?" Grissom continued.

Trevor thought for a moment, "I don't know, but he started getting these phone calls and his personality, he used to be so open and nice, and then he was almost acting paranoid about something."

Brass nodded, "Anyone else acting weird around the place?"

"Um, I think Anastasia noticed something going on, she got a little quiet."

Brass wrote that down, "Alright Trevor, can you think of anything else we should know?"

Trevor shook his head, then looked down at the table, "You're not going to book me for stealing are you?"

"Well no one reported anything stolen, did they? And you were going to give Anna the money back right?" Brass said, his tone serious on the last note.

Trevor vigorously shook his head yes, "Of course I was! I will! I promise. I only took it cause my mom was struggling to make rent this month, and we really needed the money."

"Alright, if you think of anything else, call us ok? You're free to go," Grissom finished.

Trevor nearly ran out the door.

Grissom joined Greg in the hallway outside the interrogation room.

"Hear anything familiar?" he asked the younger man.

"No. The mamma's boy in there doesn't sound like he's even hit puberty yet," Greg joked.

"Never underestimate someone Greg."

Brass approached the group, "I've got good news and bad news guys," he said.

"Good news?" Grissom requested.

"We may have a suspect. Brock Adams,' the cook, his alibi only checks out partially. The wife can't confirm his whereabouts for the entire night. The bartender can, but unfortunately for Mr. Adams, he left the bar about half an hour before our vic was murdered. His wife can only confirm for after Riley was done in."

"Interesting," Greg commented.

"We'll have to bring him back in. What's the bad news?"

"Everyone else working there, well their alibis are solid, except for the bus boy, I still have to confirm his."

"Thanks Brass," Grissom said, "Greg, let's get back to the lab and re-evaluate what we've got alright? Greg?"

Greg was distracted by two people walking down the hall, specifically Nick Stokes and Anna Riley.

The tension in the audio/visual room was thick. The 911 tape was cued up, and Grissom and Nick were giving Anna a few moments to compose herself before they played it for her.

"Are you sure you want to do this so soon?" Nick asked again.

Anna nodded, drawing in a breath, "Yes. I have to know who killed my grandfather."

"Tell us when you're ready," Grissom added, his hand hovering over the computer, ready to hit play.

She closed her eyes, and gripped her hands together, "Ready," she said simply.

"911 emergency, how can I help you?" a female voice rang out.

"Where is it old man?!" a voice demanded in the background.

"Please, I'll give you money, but not that!" Robert Riley pleaded.

Anna sucked in another breath, and Nick could hear her trying not to cry at the sound of Robert Riley's voice.

"Is anyone there? I'm sending over the police," the operator said.

"Please help, please…" the muffled whisper came from Anna on the tape.

There was a scream in the background and the line went dead.

Anna shuddered as she heard the scream then the sudden cut off of the recording. She kept her eyes closed, but could not contain the tears that began to stream down her cheeks.

"Anna?" Nick whispered, and gently touched her shoulder.

Her hand suddenly flew to his and gripped it tightly. She still kept her eyes closed and began to chew on her lower lip. Grissom gave Nick a look.

"Anna? Do you recognize the voice on the tape?" he tried.

She shook her head, "No…" she breathed.

"Do you remember anything?" Grissom asked quietly.

Her eyes flew open, they were red and full of emotion, "No! No I don't! Why? Why can't I remember? I need to know who did this!" she sobbed, and leaned over, cradling her head in her hands.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Sara!" Warrick called to her as she came out of the break room, "You're going to want to come see this."

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her co-worker. She caught up to him and he headed towards evidence room.

"We just received an anonymous package containing a gun, with a note to run the prints on it through the system."

They entered the evidence room where Warrick had laid out the package. He had given the gun to Bobby Dawson for analysis.

"Do you think it was used to kill our vic?"

"We'll have to wait and see. I lifted the prints and they're being run as we speak."

"Any idea who the package is from?"

"No. There are no prints on it. Did you get anything off of the guy I called in?"

"John Val Jean, yes I did. He was arrested nearly ten years ago for petty theft. He was living off welfare at the time, and he broke into a bakery for some food. The owner pressed for a conviction and he spent a few months in jail. He also broke his parole. Since then he's been clean. Why did you want to know about him?"

"He seemed to know something about this case but I couldn't figure it out. He was also out the night that the murder occurred with no good alibi."

"Should we bring him in?"

"We don't have any grounds do we?"

"Guess not."

"We'll have to work off the gun for now," his pager went off, "That's Archie with the bullet comparison for us, lets go."

Bobby greeted them in his lab, "I've got some good news for you two," he beamed.

"The bullet from our mystery gun matches the murder vic right?" Sara guessed.

"Bingo!"

"What else can you tell us?" Warrick asked.

"It's a pretty common gun, nice and light, and easy to fire."

"Could a kid use it pretty easily?"

"If they could get their hands on it. It's automatic, so yes."

"Are you thinking about those teens you were talking to?" Sara questioned.

Warrick nodded, "Thanks Bobby."

"No problem."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom and Greg were re-evaluating the evidence from their case when Nick came into the room.

"How is she?" Greg asked. Nick had taken Anna home after she had broken down from hearing the 911 tape.

"She's doing alright, as best she can right now. What else have we got?" Nick answered trying to avoid the topic. But Grissom saw the concern on the Texan's face, and wondered again, how emotionally involved Nick was becoming in the case.

"We got a warrant for Brock Adams and Trevor Jameson's shoes, as they are the only ones without solid alibis for the night of the murder. Greg got us those shoes, and we're going from there," Grissom answered, showing Nick the bagged shoes in front of him.

"I was just about to start with them," Greg added.

"You can help him Nick, I've got to go take care of something," Grissom excused himself.

"Did we get anywhere with the fibres found on the vic or with the murder weapon?" Nick questioned.

"Nah, fibres were to generic to match to anything, and besides, most matched up with a towel from the vic's bathroom we found. And we still don't have a murder weapon," Greg replied, removing a pair of shoes from a bag.

They spent the next hour comparing the soles of the shoes they collected with the footprints from the crime scene.

"Last pair," Greg commented as he pulled black boots from a bag.

None of the shoes were a match yet.

"Who do they belong to?" Nick wanted to know.

"Jameson. Looks like Adams is clear for now."

Greg inspected the bottom of the boots. They looked clean. He rolled on the ink and pressed the boot onto a piece of paper, leaving an imprint of the soul. He then placed the print from the crime scene, which was on clear paper, over the boot's imprint. It was a perfect match.

"Looks like we have a suspect," Greg smiled, "And I never would have picked him to be it."

"Can't be sure yet Greggo. If he lawyers up he could argue that anyone could have those boots, and then we still have that second pair of prints to match."

"The second set were on record as a lady's set of boots, so at least we know the accomplice was female."

Nick took the boots from Greg and looked at them under the light. He then took a q-tip and tested the side of the boot for blood.

"These things were cleaned well if anything. There's evidence of bleach for sure."

He grabbed another q-tip and inspected the boot again. He noticed that on the toe, the rubber and actual book were split ever so slightly, and Nick gently peeled back the ridge, sticking the q-tip in the small space. When he tested again for blood, it came back positive.

"You can't clean everywhere," he grinned, "Take this to DNA would you Greg?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Your gun prints belong to Joe Bryan. He's listed in the system as a security guard at the local mall in the area of your crime scene," Wendy told Warrick and Sara. She turned the computer screen towards them.

"Let's have Brass bring him in then," Warrick said.

As they left Wendy, Sara showed Warrick the file that she had on the vic.

"Nina didn't go to school. She was registered at the high school, but dropped out when she was sixteen. From what I got, she worked manual labour, mainly house cleaning and landscaping for other neighbourhoods. A few people at the local plaza identified her. They said she used to hang out there and ask people if they needed a maid. She also worked part time for a doughnut shop. I went over to the parent's house, which is still her last known address. I found some forms for night school in her room. There were also books that belonged to a kid named Mark-"  
"The kid I talked with," Warrick interjected.

"It looked like she was trying to clean herself up, and get back into school. Poor kid."

"Well let's find Joe and maybe he can clear up why Nina won't be heading back to school any time soon."

Just then, Sara's cell phone rang, and she answered, "Yeah, we'll be there right away," she said, then hung up, "Front desk says we have a witness here," she told Warrick.

They arrived a few moments later at the desk, and Warrick came face to face with John Val Jean again.

"Mr. Val Jean, what brings you here?" Warrick greeted him.

"We need to talk Mr. Brown, about Nine's murder."

Sara and Warrick led him over to the seating area, "I'm Sara Sidle, I'm also working this case Mr. Val Jean, what can you tell us?"

"I know who murdered Nine, or rather, Nina. He's a security guard at the mall-"

"Joe Bryan, we found the murder weapon, it has his prints on it," Warrick said.

"Then you found the evidence."

Sara raised an eyebrow at him, "Did the package come from you?"

"I will not say, I don't want to tamper with evidence, but let's just say it came from a citizen who seeks justice."

Sara shook her head, "What can you tell us about the murder? They say you are a witness."

"I am not a witness, I only speak for the actual witnesses. They will not come forward, nor do they need to. I can attest to the fact that Mr. Bryan was at the scene during the scuffle, and that I was there, but not at the time of the murder. I speak for several people when they say they saw Mr. Bryan give the fatal shot."

"Is there a reason why these people won't come forward themselves?"

"They have no need to, you have enough evidence now, especially if you bring Mr. Bryan in himself."

"There is still the matter of who took responsibility for Nina after she was shot. How come no one took her to the hospital?" Warrick questioned.

"That I cannot answer. I was not there when Nina was shot, nor was I around afterwards."

"And where were you?" Sara tried.

"Trying to save the people from the likes of Mr. Bryan and his friends."

"So you're saying Mr. Bryan had accomplices?"

"Many. You saw what was out there. It was an all out war between Mr. Bryan, and his vigilante friends who are trying to bring down the people I was trying to protect."

"Could you identify any of these friends?" Warrick asked.

"Mr. Bryan's friends were other teens from the area, other kids who are not as driven as the people I am trying to protect, the ones who tried to better themselves through education. They were trying to bring down these people, rob them, and break them down. That is all I can say."

"And that's all I think I need to know. Thank you for your time Mr. Val Jean. If you could please fill out a statement before you leave, it would be greatly appreciated," Warrick replied, shaking the man's hand.

Sara looked aghast as Warrick let the man walk away, "What are you doing Warrick?" she exclaimed.

"I know exactly what is going on," he said.

"Then maybe you want to fill me in?"

"Let's find Catherine and then I will."

Warrick and Sara met up with Catherine in the evidence room.

"Cath, did you find anything else at our crime scene?" Warrick asked.

"Bloody clothes belonging to your vic, dumped in a trash can not to far from where she was found. I also found a sweat shirt with gun shot residue and blood on it, dumped in a trash can by the mall. The blood does not belong to the vic, it was found on the sleeve of the shirt, near a tear. We ran the blood through the system, no hits. I also found shell casings galore, and at least five of them belonged to the gun that was sent to us. There are others from separate guns, one I recovered on a lot on the street. There were prints on it, but no one to compare them too. As for witnesses, there were plenty of people who probably saw what happened, but none who are willing to talk. Looks like whatever went on, it caused a lot of fear."

"So from what we learned from Val Jean, it was a war between two sets of kids: the educated and the drop outs. How Joe Bryan got involved, I'm not sure, but we've got his gun, and he's a prime suspect for our vic's murder," Warrick added.

"Brass is bringing him in for us as we speak. Let's compare his DNA to the blood on the sweat shirt and see what we get," Sara stated, "What about these other people Val Jean referred to?" Sara asked Warrick.

"He's referring to the kids who Nina hung out with, like Mark. I think that Mark and whoever he was with were with Nina when she died. I'm going to get them to come in and talk to us."

Sara and Catherine nodded in agreement.

Later, in the interrogation room, the infamous Joe Bryan made his appearance.

"So, Joe, where were you the other night?" Brass began.

"Working."

"I'm not so sure about that. I talked to your supervisor, he said you were fired a week ago. How were you working if you were out of a job? In fact, your boss told me he fired you for harassing some kids. Want to talk about that?"

"Stupid kids were lingering to long in the food court. I told them to move along, they didn't."

"I heard it differently. I heard those kids were minding their own business, and you threw them out and nearly assaulted one."

"Bastards shouldn't have been there."

Behind the two way mirror, Warrick said to Sara, "I got the story from Brass, and the security footage. The kids he's referring to are the ones I talked to. Supervisor said Joe has a particular problem with Mark and his friends because he used to be part of their gang, until he got kicked out of school."  
"Really? So I'm guessing Mark and his friends wouldn't hang out with him anymore?"

"I assume so, if they wanted to stay straight, and stay in school."

Back in the interrogation room Brass started questioning again, "Anyways, that's beyond the point. Where were you the other night Joe?"

"Out."

"Care to expand on that?"

"I was out."

Warrick and Sara entered the room, "I bet we could tell you where you were, or at least where your gun was," Sara said.

"Your fire arm, registered to you, and with your prints on it was used in the murder of a young girl. Care to explain that?" Warrick grilled Joe.

"I didn't kill anyone."

"Oh, but you did," Catherine said entering the room, carrying a file. She put it in front of Joe, opening it, "These test results show your DNA on this sweat shirt, recognize it?" she said, flipping to a picture of the piece of clothing.

Joe looked pale, Catherine continued, "Your sweatshirt, with your blood, and gun shot residue on it from your gun. You killed Nina Theodore."

"I want a lawyer."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nick Stokes rushed down the hallway to the waiting area, where he found Anna Riley pacing back and forth.

"Anna? What's wrong? I got your call," he said.

She looked at him with her red eyes and tear stained cheeks and replied, "It's coming back."

Nick guided her to a seat, then asked gently, "What happened? What do you remember?"

She took a deep breath, "When you took me home, I laid down for a nap, and then I started dreaming. In the dream, it started coming back…just little bits, here and there. Voices, colours….my Papa's screaming…."

"Do you remember anything about the killers?"

She shook her head, "I can here the voice of the man, yelling. That's all right now…I wish I could tell you more."

"That's alright Anna…it's a start."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So Joe's lawyer negotiated life in prison over the death penalty in exchange for Joe naming his accomplices who are terrorizing the neighbourhood," Warrick explained to Catherine as they walked down the halls.

"Well Joe was a slam dunk for the murder, but who else do we still have to talk to?"

"Mark and George," Warrick said, holding the door for Catherine.

Inside the room, the two boys sat, with Sara and Brass already in there.

"Hi guys. I think you remember me, and this is Ms. Willows, and I think you already met Ms. Sidle and Captain Brass," Warrick greeted both boys.

"Thanks for coming down voluntarily," Sara added.

"You said you caught who killed Nine," George asked tentatively.

"We did. But we need to hear what happened after Nine was shot," Sara added.

Mark looked pale, "We know you were there," Catherine replied, "We know you took care of her."

**_More to come soon..._**


	6. Chapter 6

"Why didn't you take her to a hospital?" Sara questioned.

Mark finally broke down, "We were there. We were both there. Nine shouldn't have been there though. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Bryan shot her for no good reason. It was us he wanted. She was a nice girl, and we didn't want anything to happen to her…" he trailed off, his voice breaking.  
George took over, "There was so much blood….she stopped breathing…there was no time for the hospital, no time for an ambulance…and she didn't want one. She told us. Mark was holding her, and she said she just wanted him to hold her, not to worry any more."

"She said she didn't feel any pain….so I just held her…" Mark whispered.

"The park, it was her favourite spot. So we cleaned her up and took her there….we knew you would find her, that she would be taken care of, you know, get a burial, better than her parents would provide…" George trailed off this time.

"I'm sorry if we did anything wrong," Mark said quietly.

Warrick motioned for the others to meet him in the hall, "We'll be right back," he told the teens.

Shutting the door behind her, Catherine asked, "What is it 'Rick?"

"We can't charge them with anything, can we? They didn't do anything wrong."

Brass sighed, "They left the scene of the crime, and technically violated the good Samaritan act. Plus they didn't report the body."

"But it was the victim's choice not to get aid," Warrick added.

"I think it's our call here. We could charge them," Catherine tried.

"Technically we have to," Sara stated.

"What good would that do though? Look at them. They have their whole lives ahead of them, and they're trying to do it right," Warrick pleaded.

Brass thought for a few moments before saying, "Listen, I'll fine them both, but I'll knock it down to the minimal, with no arrest. I understand what you're getting at 'Rick, and the intentions behind it. This way, the law is served and we don't wrongfully convict anyone."  
Everyone seemed to agree on this point, and Warrick went to tell the teens the news.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nick was walking Anna down the hall past the interrogation room where Grissom had Trevor Jameson. Inside, Grissom was grilling his suspect,

"Your alibi doesn't check out Trevor. In fact, we found blood on your shoe that matches Mr. Riley's."  
"I had nothing to do with this," Trevor muttered.

"Blood just doesn't appear on your shoe from the vic. How do you explain that?" Grissom tried.

"You weren't taking money for rent, you were stealing from Mr. Riley and blackmailing him," Greg shot at the suspect.

"I wasn't blackmailing him!"

"Then who was?"

"If I tell you, do I get off?"

"Not on murder you don't. But maybe we can negotiate the death penalty out of the equation," Greg mocked.

"Anastasia was running the operation. She had me call Riley and ask for money, which he never had enough of, after I took it from the register. He'd pay by leaving the cash in designated spots. Then Anastasia got greedy. She wanted all the shares to the restaurant, but he wouldn't give it to her. So she threatened to kill him for it."

"So you broke into his house and killed him for the shares?" Grissom said calmly.

Trevor looked guilty.

"We know you were there the night of the murder Trevor. We have your footprints. Who was really running the operation? I think it was you," Greg replied, "We know you murdered Robert Riley."

This set off Trevor Jameson. He stood up and yelled, "The old man should have given us the shares! He never paid me enough to begin with!"

Out in the hall, Trevor's yelling filtered through the door, and Anna stopped dead in her tracks, "That's him!" she froze, her face draining of colour, "That's the voice! I can see it now! Oh my….no! NO!" she cried, as the images of the murder flashed before her eyes.

Nick watched as she turned towards the door, and saw Trevor inside. He couldn't catch her before she wrenched the door open, bursting inside.

"How could you!?" she screamed at Trevor, "Why?! How could you do that to him!? He treated you like family!" she yelled, lunging at Trevor.

Nick, who had followed her, grabbed her around the waist before she could reach the murderer, and pulled her back.

"Let me go! Nick! Stop it! He killed him! I saw it!" she screamed as Nick dragged her out the door.

He saw Grissom and Greg's shocked faces, and the officers cuffing Trevor Jameson before he got Anna into the hall.

"He killed him! I saw it!" she was still screaming, as Nick turned her around in his arms to face him. She had begun to sob, and he held her arms tightly, forcing her to look at him.

"Anna! Stop it! You have to calm down. Please…"

"He…killed him…my Papa…" she sobbed, choking on the words. Her knees gave out and she slid towards the floor, where Nick cradled her as she cried.

_**Fin**_

_**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Reviews please! **_

_**I am SO sorry for the delay. I know everyone has waited months for this now, but to be honest, I just finished my first semester doing my honours, and I had NO time for this story. Papers/essays/readings took priority. But now I am on Christmas break, and here is the end, my Christmas gift to everyone! Enjoy! I will be posting another CSI story soon, and then my first Grey's Anatomy story! Merry Christmas everyone! **_


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